


It's just business

by NovemberWings



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: How Race became a Newsie, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, No Sex, Other, Prostitution, Rentboys, Spot saves Race, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 16:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16391180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberWings/pseuds/NovemberWings
Summary: Race has worked as a rentboy for years, but what happens when Spot Conlon sees him on the street corner?





	It's just business

**Author's Note:**

> Well I mean now in my search history I have 'most popular 1890s prostitute names'

Race shivered as a cold breeze claimed his corner. His short skirt and bare shoulders were bad enough but now the winter months were coming and he hadn’t made enough money to stop working during the worst of the snow. He’d have to go back into the brothel, if only for the warmth. He desperately wanted to take in a big breath of the icy cold air and blow it warm onto his hands to melt away some of the numbness, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop his show for even a moment, and even if he wanted to he couldn’t anyway because of the corset that tightly pulled his straight body into a curvaceous torso. He spotted a man walking towards him, a potential customer. He cleared his throat to effeminate his voice and put a hand on his waist, jutting out a hip.  
“Why, hello there, sir.” He said trying to lure the man in. He looked rich, “want to have some fun?” His smiled broadly at the man, clenching his back teeth to keep from shivering. The man paused, obviously surprised by his approach and he looked to be considering it for a moment before he shook his head and sneered at him. Race drew back, he knew when not to push his luck. He let out a shaky breath, reprimanding himself for feeling relieved that the man had walked past, he needed the money. He would just have to try harder.

Race swayed on the corner, propositioning nearly every man that walked by him, and not one was accepting. This was going to be a long night without the reprieve of a warm bedroom, even if he was working.

Without warning there was a tap on his shoulder from behind, Race fought the urge to flinch and tense his shoulders. This could be a customer, and most didn’t like jittery girls. He swung round, fake smile plastered all over his face.

He had been expecting to see a middle aged man, as per his usual clientele, but was shocked to see someone his age, or a little older. The boy looked 17 or 18 despite his small stature.  
“Hey, sugar.” Race crooned, money was money it didn’t matter how old the guy was.  
“Err… hi.” The guy said rubbing the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. This was going to be easy, Race knew how to get loads out of a shy guy while doing basically nothing.  
“Don’t be shy, come on, what you look for in a girl, hm?” He flirted lazily, reaching up to brush he hand against his arm.  
“How much are you?” Race blanched a little at that, this guy was very business.  
“Depends what you lookin’ for, sweetheart.” He paused before leaning in and theatrically whispering, “but for you I’ll make it cheap considering how handsome you are.” He giggled, and he wasn’t 100% lying there. In another circumstance this guy might be someone he would really flirt with, but he would never be with anyone who could pick up a random girl off the street to fuck.  
“How much to get in a hotel room?” He gestured towards the brothel with it’s warm glowing lights which teased Race. He didn’t let his hopes jump, even though he really wanted to.  
“Minimum $15.” Race said, hoping that wouldn’t break what he had going. He’d lower it if he had to.  
“Done.” The guy said, shocking Race that he hadn’t even tried to barter. This guy either really didn’t know what he was doing or he was really desperate, and Race knew which one he preferred it was.  
“Great!” Race exclaimed happily, playfully clapping his hands. He reached forward and grabbed the boy’s hand in his dragging him, probably faster than he should, towards the warm brothel. He glided in through the open doors and slowly led the boy down the corridor to the first vacant room he could find.

He stood to the side of the door frame and pushed it open, gesturing for him to go in first. The guy walked in, Race followed slowly and seductively closing the door. When he turned around the guy was sitting on the bed looking at him. Race faked an embarrassed giggle as he made his way towards him. When he got close he started to lower himself to his knees in front of him, staring up through his long lashes. This was just business. He had done this hundreds of times before. Just a way to get a meal.

He reached towards the boy’s waistband, following protocol, when suddenly his hands were gently grabbed. His head snapped up in shock to look at the guy confused.  
“Come sit next to me for a sec.” He nodded to the space next to him. Race was confused but he did as he was told. He perched on the bed and waited for him to speak. “What your name?” he asked rubbing nervously at his thighs, clearly an anxious habit. That had surprised Race, he hadn’t been expecting that.  
“Crystal.” The lie rolled of his tongue, smooth as butter. The other cringed.  
“No. Your real name. I’m Spot.” Race almost laughed.  
“An’ Spot’s a real name.” He snorted out before thinking. He clasped a hand over his mouth. He’d always been told that his mouth would get him in to trouble and it often did. “I’m sorry, sir!” He exclaimed, “Please, forgive me. Let me make it up to you.” He spoke sliding himself off the bed, back onto his knees, mentally berating himself for being so stupid.

He felt Spot grab his cold bare shoulders in his warm hands, stopping him and gently guiding him back onto the bed.  
“It’s alright. It ain’t my real name, just what I go by. I meant what’s your boy name?” Race paused for a minute before deciding it couldn’t do any harm.  
“Racetrack.”  
“That’s your real name?” Spot asked raising an eyebrow.  
“It’s what I go by.” Race curtly said back, as if ‘Spot’ could judge. Spot let out a chuckle;  
“I like you, Racetrack.” He spoke through a smile, and Race felt a little sick at that. He was starting to like Spot, but now I was back to business.  
“I’m glad, sir.” He smiled through the pain, “let me make you like me more.” He crooned as he slowly slid back onto his knees, reaching for Spot’s waistband again.

Suddenly, Spot jerked forward and tightly grabbed his wrists, making him flinch back. Cold rushed over him as he realised that maybe Spot liked it rough. He hated men that liked to hurt him, even though he charged more he got way less customers after – too sore to do anything. It was always scary being hurt as well, when he was completely out of control. Race looked at the hands around his skinny, feminine wrists; he was frightened, but he had done it before. It’s just business. He forced a sad smile on his face and glanced up at Spot from the floor.  
“It’s gonna cost more if you wanna be rough, sweetheart.” He had already resigned himself to that fact that this wasn’t even going to be the least bit fun. Just business. Just business.

Spot stared at his face, wide-eyed, before letting go of his wrists like they burnt him and scrambling to the other side of the bed. He stared at Race, breathing heavily, while Race had somehow frozen in time on his knees – confused at what was happening.  
“No!” Spot exclaimed shaking his head, “Jesus, Race, that’s really fucked up. I was only trying to stop you! I don’t want nothin’ from ya.” He sounded honest. This must be a game. Some weird kink? His mouth fell open, wanting words to come out, but nothing came. He was just really confused.  
“Honey…” He said, before pausing to think, “if this is a game you wanna play, that’s okay, you just need to tell me what it is you want.” He relaxed in his position a little, expecting a conversation, but all he got was Spot shaking his head enthusiastically again.  
“Race, this ain’t no game. I seriously don’t want nothing from you.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I just wanted to talk to you. You got all these ideas and they ain’t true.” Race frowned deeply, before sighing. He couldn’t make out what Spot was saying.  
“Look,” he said through a sigh, “we can do anything you want, alright? Do you want me on my knees, or naked, or on my back? What is it you want, Sir?” He spoke just plaining looking into his eyes, no flirtatious smile or batting his eyes, he just needed to know. This was just business.

Spot looked into his lap before moving to sit on the edge of the bed where he once again patted the spot next to him, which Race obliged to sit in.  
“Right, Racer, you gotta listen now. Don’t do nothing until I’s finished.” Race just nodded. “I’m a newsie. A newsboy. I sell news papers on the streets in Brooklyn.” Race nodded again to show that he was following, just he wasn’t quite sure where this was headed. “I saw you out on the street and wondered if you might wanna quit being Crystal and be a Newsie. I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier.” He paused, “you just looked so cold, and sad under ya smiles I had to ask. I don’t think I coulda lived with myself if I didn’t even try.”

Race was confused. Was this still a game? Or was this boy genuinely offering him a way out. An escape. A break. Better err on the side of caution. He was still working. He gave a chuckle – he was going for playful but it sounded sad even to his ears. He could feel himself tearing up a little.  
“I don’t like this game, sir. Let’s us have some fun.” He wanted to feel numb. He didn’t want to feel this want for something he could never have. This would be his life. He was Crystal. He reached up and started undoing the front of the corset. His hands were shaking too much. He was cold. He was tired. He was hungry. He just wanted to curl up and cry, his breathing was short, and he could feel tears brimming. This wasn’t good for business.

There was a warm hand covering his, wordlessly telling him to stop. Once again he obliged.  
“Race. Look at me.” He glanced up with tearful eyes to look Spot in the eye. “You don’t have to do this no more. I’m the leader of Brooklyn. I’ll see to it that you’re safe. I promise. I’ll look after you.” Race’s eyes flitted around Spot’s face, trying to find any hit of laughter or playfulness but all he could see was plain sincerity.  
“But…” His voice broke tears almost spilling, “what about Crystal?”  
“Race, you can stop.” And that sent him over the edge. He started sobbing. He moved his shaking hands to cover his face, and Spot gently pulled him into a hug and allowed him to cry on his shoulder, rubbing his chilled back gently with a warm hand. After a few minutes Race sat up straight and wiped at his face and eyes, trying to dry his eyes as best as possible.  
“Are you for real, Sir?” He needed this. He needed this to be real.  
“One hundred percent.” He gave a sharp nod, and for the first time in years Race could breath without the weight of a thousand corsets and men on his shoulders. “And Race?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Call me, Spot.” Race nodded smiling. It was over. Spot pulled out a shirt from his bag and handed it to Race who gratefully pulled it on, hiding the corset underneath.  
“Alright, let’s get you to Brooklyn, Racer.” Spot clapped his hands as Race stood and rubbed his together for warmth and blew some hot air into them.

As Race followed Spot out the room and closed the door behind them, he realised, smiling, that he was finally closed for business.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a stupid quick one shot here.  
> I was inspired by the show 'Alienist' on Netflix which is SUPER good, and is actually great because it's set in 1890s new york, so it's like how the Newsies would have lived, so that's super cool. So check it out if you're interested, I'd definitely recommend it.
> 
> As always tell me what you think? Opinions? Thoughts? What would you have done differently?
> 
> Thanks for reading!! *kisses*


End file.
